A Servant's Place
by JayRain
Summary: The first rule of tending to the king is to remember your place; but how can you do that when just being around him makes it so easy to forget?  And not only that: when he all but encourages you to forget?  King Cailan from his servant, Aubrey's, POV


**Author's Note:** I introduced the character of Aubrey the elven maid in _Sneaking_ when Cailan was about 16 or so. She was a good side character for a quick fling. However, the talented and creative deagh took her and made a real dimensional character of her in her story "Serving the King", in which the differences between Kings Alistair and Cailan are noted by an elven serving girl. Her depiction of Aubrey and Alistair's bath time is wonderful, and it got me thinking of what bathtime may have been like for Aubrey and Cailan. Because I just can't get enough of writing about Cailan.

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><p><em>A Servant's Place<em>

The first rule of attending the king was to always remember your place. It was a rule that had been drilled into Aubrey since she was a scullery maid, selected from the Alienage to serve in the palace. She'd scrub pots and pans all day long, then return to the hovel she shared with her father and three younger siblings after her mother died. She would collapse onto her pallet, hands and arms raw, red, and aching, then go and do it all over again. But through the years she'd worked her way from scullery duty to chamber maid, a position that caught the eye of the prince. And catching his eye had left them both in compromising positions in hallways, window embrasures, and just about anywhere else she let him take her.

And such unofficial duties had led to her promotion as King Cailan's bathing attendant.

Aubrey knew he'd had his way with several other serving girls of various positions. She'd even tidied up previously unused guest quarters after he'd had a tryst in them. But she never allowed the green dragon of jealousy to creep into her mind and heart with its wily ways. To do so would be to forget her place. And besides, she was King Cailan's only bathing attendant. No other girl, human or elven, could boast that.

She checked the temperature of the clear water in the stone tub and found it satisfactory, though there were cans of water sitting by the crackling fire in the event the king was delayed and his water went tepid. A stack of fluffy towels sat on the carved shelf next to the bath, and Aubrey had neatly folded several wash cloths on the rim of the tub. As a finishing touch she'd brought up a fresh cake of soap that her younger brother had carved into the shape of a rose for her. She'd told Nolan it was a gift for someone special, and the boy had smiled and gotten to work. Aubrey smoothed the front of her plain beige gown, though she did adjust the neckline so it showed her bust to its best advantage. The king often commented on her full bosom, and she intended to please him with more than just a well-prepared bath.

The hinges creaked and Aubrey stood taller, hands clasped behind her back and eyes cast down at the stone floor. The king's footsteps sounded heavily, and he was muttering to himself. Aubrey couldn't quite catch anything he was saying, but discerned from the tone that he was not happy. She remained rooted to her spot, though her green eyes flicked to the side and she watched his shadow loom across the floor as King Cailan's bare feet padded to the bath.

"Is the temperature to your liking, Sire?" Aubrey asked in her clear but soft voice, eyes still downcast. His response was to trail his hand through the water; she heard the musical lapping of water on the stone tub's edge, could feel herself tremble at the thought of the king's nude body so close to her own. "I can warm it if you'd like, Majesty," she dared to say after another silent moment had passed.

"It's fine." King Cailan lowered himself into the water with a gentle splash.

"If you need me to…"

"I said it's fine."

Aubrey nodded, hardening herself against the sharpness in his voice. She had no right to feel hurt by his displeasure, especially if she had caused it. Just because she'd been an object of King Cailan's dalliances for nearly nine years, it meant nothing. It would never mean anything to him, and it _could_ never mean anything to her.

"Aubrey, look at me." King Cailan's voice was softer as he commanded her to raise her eyes. He leaned back, his long golden hair loose about his shoulders. His muscled torso was smooth, lacking the scars of battle. His straight nose and strong jaw were offset by the gentleness in his pale blue eyes and the small smirk curving his lips. At times like these he was as a statue: all beautiful carved lines and flawless flesh. "You have not displeased me," he said, startling her from her observation. He seemed completely oblivious to his own masculinity, talking with her from the tub as easily as he would speak to someone from his throne. "If anything, I look forward to these quiet times." He sank beneath the surface of the bath and rose up, hair plastered to his head and water streaming over his fine features.

"The pressures of ruling a kingdom must pile up, Majesty," she said.

"It's not even the pressure of ruling. It's the trying to rule, and being questioned at every single turn," he said. Their conversations often ran thus; over the years Aubrey had realized the king needed more than just a warm bed and a clever girl to please him in ways his wife couldn't. He needed someone to listen to him.

Aubrey pushed up the sleeves of her white chemise and without being bidden to, leaned over the edge of the bath and began to rub King Cailan's shoulders. He sighed, contented. "Something awful is coming to Ferelden. I can feel it," he said, and she felt his muscles tense under her touch. "I only wish I could convince people. They listened to my father; and yet nothing I say or do can convince anyone of anything, simply because I am _not_ him."

"They are fools not to believe you, Sire." What she wanted to tell him was that she understood; in the Alienage, your life was planned for you; if you tried to be anything other than what was predetermined, your life would be even more miserable. But her place was to listen to King Cailan, not share the mundane details of her life. So instead she took the cake of soap and rubbed it over his shoulders and down over his chest, reaching around his neck to help him wash. He was a grown man and capable of doing this himself, but he never protested, and she relished any chance to feel him this way.

He took her hand and caressed her soapy fingers. "Are they fools for not listening, or am I the fool for continually trying to convince them?" He pulled her arm around him until she was nearly leaning into the water. He turned so his lips were close to hers. "The thought of my country failing, and so much beauty going to waste is… unbearable." He leaned in and his warm lips touched hers. Aubrey closed her eyes and let him kiss her, savoring the sensation of his tongue in her mouth and his arm pulling her close. "Strip," he commanded in a husky voice.

"Sire?" Aubrey opened her eyes to find King Cailan's intense blue gaze compelling her to obey.

"You can't very well bathe in your clothing," he said, his smirk returning. "Here, let me help you." He rose and she tried not to stare at the water and suds cascading over his lean hips, and down his sculpted backside. He helped Aubrey undo the laces of her drab dress, and slipped her chemise over her head. She stood naked before him, something she'd done frequently, and yet this time felt different. There was a vulnerability to her king. He withdrew the pins keeping her hair back in a proper chignon at the nape of her neck, and her copper hair tumbled over her shoulders. "Come in, the water's lovely," he said, taking both her hands.

Aubrey's baths were usually cold, taken in whatever water was leftover after her family had washed. Thus she never felt truly clean; and while she would never admit it, her favorite part of tending to the king's bath, aside from the king himself, was being so close to clear, hot water and fresh soap. So when she stepped in it was hard to repress the gasp of delight.

"I told you it was warm enough." King Cailan's breath was hot on her ear. He sat behind Aubrey, nestling his nose in her hair. "I've oft wondered why I never thought of this before," he said, wrapping his arms around Aubrey and holding her to his body. He'd held her plenty of times before, but the soapy water made him feel even closer, as if they were part of one another. "Or why you haven't thought of it," he added suddenly. "You've been creative enough in the past."

Aubrey blushed, grateful that her back was to him so he could not see. "It was not my place," she said, the ingrained answer of a servant. "I have been thankful for your attentions, even when they were not deserved, and—"

"Every show of attention or trinket of affection was well-deserved; otherwise I wouldn't have given it," King Cailan said, sounding fierce and for a moment Aubrey was afraid she'd overstepped her bounds. "You must know how grateful I've been for you over these years." He took the soap in his hands, hard from years of training with a greatsword, and yet gentle when he began washing her. His hands massaged over her shoulders and her collarbones, down her arms, and over her breasts. He paused to enjoy the way the slipperiness of the soap made her more responsive, and in spite of herself and her ingrained upbringing, Aubrey closed her eyes and for once allowed the king to tend to her.

"If it's not too bold to say, the queen does not appreciate you the way she should," Aubrey said at last, eyes still closed and head resting back against King Cailan's broad chest.

"It is never too bold to speak the truth," he said. He nudged her forward and rubbed a washcloth over Aubrey's back.

"Then the truth is I should be doing this for you." Aubrey took the cloth from the king and turned to face him. She trailed the cloth over his neck, then dropped it so she could cup his face in her hand. "You are dangerous, your Majesty," she said, eyes trained on the smirking curve of his mouth. "For years you've made me forget my place."

"I've only tried to remind you," he said, leaning in and claiming her lips with his own. He pulled her to him and she wrapped her legs around his torso, feeling his need pressing against her beneath the surface of the bath. "I don't need a queen; I don't need a general. I need someone who will listen to me. A friend."

"A servant should not be a friend to her master," she protested around his kisses. She gasped as his nimble fingers found her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face there, inhaling the clean soapy scent of the king.

"Your protests displease me," he said with a hint of laughter in his voice. She looked up at him, feeling furious despite her enjoyments. "Stop thinking about it, Aubrey," he said. "You've never had a problem being with me before; why now?"

"Because you are impeding my duties, Sire," Aubrey said, face flushed with embarrassment as well as pleasure.

"Perhaps I wish for your duties to include more of this." Aubrey bit on her lip and kept her eyes averted. "Perhaps I enjoy when you tend to _all_ of my needs in the bath." He guided her hands down his torso and she felt the curves and lines of his muscles and then his manhood in her hand, filling her grip. Her hand tightened and moved and it was the king's turn to gasp. He tensed, then relaxed as she settled into the familiar routine of pleasing the king.

He wrapped his arms around her and angled her body so he could enter her. In the warm, clean water she felt weightless. Aubrey held onto his neck, her lips locked on his, her hair trailing along the surface of the bath. The steam smelled of soap; King Cailan trailed his fingers through her hair as he moved with her, his pace quickening as his need increased. A sound not unlike a growl rumbled in his throat and he tossed his head back. His hands tightened around her hips and pulled her closer to him. She felt herself clench around the king's member and then she was pulsing and groaning and he was breathing heavily as he spent himself in her.

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><p>"Shall I draw you another bath, Sire?" Aubrey asked, tucking King Cailan's damp, scraggly hair behind his ears. The water had grown tepid, the surface murky with soap film.<p>

King Cailan pulled her close to him again and trailed his tongue along the length of one pointed ear, and Aubrey shuddered. "If another bath will play out like this one just did, by all means, draw away." He chuckled and kissed her before rising.

She barely noticed how the angle of sunlight had changed, signaling the passage of time, as she helped him dry, rubbing the towel over his back and rear and down his legs. The king detangled his hair with his fingers as she worked, splashing her with droplets. Aubrey coached herself to remain emotionless as she helped him dress in fresh clothes, a clear signal their time was ended. He reached into his side pouch and slipped a sovereign into her palm. "For your pains," King Cailan whispered, kissing her one last time before leaving.

Aubrey clutched the sovereign to her bare chest, her long red hair hanging in tangles down her back and over her shoulders. She closed her eyes and smelled the soap and let herself imagine that the king was still with her, but of course, when she opened them again he was long gone.

With a sigh she collected the used towels and piled them in the hamper, then reached into the chilled and murky water to pull the stopper out of the tub. She wiped the tub down and mopped up the puddles. She wound her hair back into as neat a bun as she could manage before dressing in her slightly damp and wrinkled clothes. She checked a looking glass before taking up the hamper on her hip. On the way out she paused before a looking glass and was pleased to see that her face was the pleasantly blank mask of a servant who always remembered her place.

Even though King Cailan made her long to forget it.


End file.
